Beautiful Secrets
by Dakota-Jones
Summary: Skittery has a talent that no one else knows about- but when this prodigy is brought to light, what kind of doors of oppurtunity will open for him? And will his rivals be the death of him when jealousy arises in high society? Or will the threat be closer?
1. Mishaps

AN: Hey everyone! Brand new fic here. Hopefully this one will get as good reviews as my other ones have! Read and review!

This is another Skittery fic- as you can tell, he's my favorite! Kudos to all you Skittery fans out there!

Summary: Skittery has a secret talent that he's never told anyone about- but when that talent is exposed, it opens up brand new doors for him. Will these new opportunities cost him his life when rivals become jealous?

            "No, no, no. Stop. You're not concentrating, Skittery."

            I pulled my hands back from the keyboard and took a deep breath as Medda sat down beside me on the piano bench, gently taking my hands in hers.

            "Your fingers must remain curved. Otherwise the line will not be smooth. The pedal can't keep it legato by itself, you have to work _with the pedal. Understand?"_

            "Yeah."

            "So try again. More flow, and better crescendo this time."

            She stood up and walked to the other side of the piano as I began playing again. I let the power of the song move itself this time- it's harder than it seems when you're trying to concentrate on the technicalities at the same time. The melody soared from my fingertips, and I let my body relax in the sweet harmonies coming from the instrument.

            I finished the song and looked up at Medda, who was beaming at me. "Beautiful. Just gorgeous. You have some real talent, kid."

            I smiled and checked my pocket watch- it was time to go. My hour was up. I fished a nickel and two pennies out of my pocket, handing it to her in payment for the next week of lessons. I started to walk out, but she stopped me.

            "You know, I've been giving you these lessons for ten years now, and I still can't believe how much talent you have. Your mother would be so proud of you."

            _Well, she'd better be, even if she is in heaven. After all, she's the one who wanted me to __keep doing this. "Thanks, Medda. Gotta go sell the afternoon edition, ya know?"_

            "Of course. But can I ask you one thing?"

            "Sure, anything."

            "Why won't you perform, just one night on my stage? As a forerunner to my singing? You know how much the audience would enjoy it."

            I bit my lip, trying not to let my annoyance shine through. "You know I can't do that."

            She looked hurt. She'd asked me that question a million times, and every time my answer was the same, but she always managed to look disappointed. "One more question, before you go." She said, her smile replacing itself on her face. "I have a piano player from Boston coming to play here tonight. Would you come help with concessions and watch the show? He's about your age, and I want you to help me grade him. He wants a critique."

            I thought about it a moment, and then decided that I owed her anyway for all the lessons she gave me that I _couldn't _pay for in the past. It would mean that I'd miss evening edition and have to scrape by on savings for the next week, but I could manage. "Sure, I'll come." 

            "Great! Come down here at 6:30, and I'll assign you a section of audience to attend to. The show starts at 7."

            "Got it. I'll be there."

            She pinched my cheek, even though she knew I hated it. "That's my boy. Now go sell your papers."

            I knew it would happen eventually, but I didn't expect it to happen today. Somebody finally noticed that for the past month I hadn't been eating lunch with the other guys at Tibby's (Medda used to give me lessons in the morning, but that changed when her show got more popular. Now she only had free time at lunch.).

            "Hey, Skittery, where were ya at lunch today?" Racetrack asked very loudly. _Figures he'd be the one to notice_, I said to myself.

            "Out."

            "You ain't been at lunch wit' us for a long time now…what are ya doin'? Finally got yourself a girl?"

            I snorted, almost choking on my water. "Yeah, Race. You hit it right on da nose. I been bangin' on a girl every day at lunch." I said sarcastically. Everyone burst out laughing and Race turned an interesting color of red, knowing that I was joking and that I had just made a fool out of him.

            "Geez, okay. I won't ask."

            The rest of dinner went smoothly, and I left early to make it to the theater on time, telling Dutchy to leave the window unlocked if I wasn't back by curfew. Dutchy was the only one I could ask to do that without playing a game of twenty questions, and I'd do the same for him any day. It was a kind of 'silent agreement' we had.

            I entered the back door of the theater, and immediately Medda noticed me. "Skittery! Come on back and I'll talk with you in a second." She said, and I sat down out of the way. The theater was already filling up, and within minutes she had supplied me with a tray of champagne and had sent me out into the audience, handing it out to anyone who cared for it. I got quite a few dirty looks, considering that this was a high-end establishment for tonight and I was dressed in my usual selling clothing- it's not like I had any 'hoity toity' clothes.

            I noticed Medda looking awfully nervous in the wings- she wasn't performing tonight, but the boy who was supposed to perform hadn't shown up yet. And when he did walk in the door, I saw why he was late.

            As I went backstage for more glasses, he stumbled in. That's right- stumbled. He was as drunk as they come. And as I walked back out into the audience, he passed out right there. 

            I continued passing out glasses, snickering to myself as I wondered how Medda was going to handle this one. Medda was a resourceful woman, but this was a no-win situation. But as I saw her walking through the audience toward me, my blood froze.

            She wouldn't. She would not do this to me!

            "Skittery, I-"

            "No! Are you out of your mind?" I hissed, and this exchange began to catch the ears of the closest audience members, who began to listen intently.

            "Please! I had no idea this was going to happen! These people paid good money to see a performance," she suddenly grabbed my chin in her hand and forced my eyes to meet hers, "and your performance would be worth every penny of that. Can you imagine how these people would react if I told them the show was cancelled, right here and now?"

            I felt panic rising in my throat as she let go of my chin. "Medda, don't make me do this."

            "I wouldn't make you if there were any other way. I'll even give you free lessons for the next year if you'd just go up there and play for them! It's only one half hour!"

            I swallowed hard. I'd never preformed on a stage in my life, and I hadn't planned on ever doing so. But this was Medda, practically a mother to me, and she was in big trouble if these people didn't see a show.

            "Alright, fine. I'll do it. Just this once. And I reserve the right to soak the guy who was supposed to play."

            "Thank you! Thank you so much!" she said, and then she jumped up onto the stage. It was time for the show to start, and the audience knew it.

            "Ladies and gentlemen!" she began, and the house fell silent. I noticed the people who had been close enough to overhear were snickering, as if they knew how nervous I was. Medda cleared her throat, and then continued. "We were supposed to have the prestigious Andrew Lundsworth with us today to play. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, he is unable to appear."

            A spark of conversation ran through the audience, and I set down the champagne tray onto an empty table, my hands trembling. _What are you thinking, you idiot? You aren't good enough to perform for these people! You can't do this! _I yelled at myself as Medda continued.

            "But in replacement, we are fortunate to have in our midst one of my very own students, who has been studying piano for many years. Please give a warm welcome to Michael O'Konnor!"

            I shuddered at the use of my real name- she was one of the very few people who knew it. I slowly climbed up onto the stage, and amidst the polite applause, I made my way to the piano.

            _You've been playing  piano your whole life. You can do this. Just relax, I said to myself as I got closer and closer. I sat down on the bench, and as the applause began to fade, I gave myself one more rousing cheer._

            _Idiot.__ Idiot, idiot idiot. How did you get yourself into this mess?_

            Then I let my heart take over. I decided on a first song and let the melody soar, suddenly forgetting that there was an audience in the room. I even caught myself playing with my eyes closed a few times, a bad habit that I try to avoid. I let my hands flow from song to song, and nothing else mattered except for the music.

            It didn't matter that they were probably making fun of my clothes, being the rich folks they were. It didn't matter that Medda was in the wing, biting her fingernails. It didn't matter that the audience members could be walking out right now, and I wouldn't have noticed. All that mattered was the music.

            I finally became conscious enough to notice that Medda was giving me thumbs up, which meant that this was the last song. I saw a clock out of the corner of my eye, and realized that I'd been playing for almost an hour.

            It felt like five minutes.

            I finished up the song, and complete silence followed. I half expected to see no audience when I looked up, but then I heard one person applauding. Then another. Then another. And as I looked up, the whole audience- every single person was still there- on their feet in a standing ovation. Smiling, whistling, clapping, toasting their champagne to me…I suddenly felt sick. Had I really done that well?

            Medda ran out on stage as I stood up and gave me a huge hug, and then motioned for me to take my bow. I took a small step forward and gave a miniscule bow- practically a nod of the head- before practically sprinting offstage.

            I felt like I couldn't breathe. I leaned against a piece of scenery, gulping air as if I had been underwater for the past hour. This was crazy. This was some type of joke. I wasn't _that_ good of a piano player. At least…I thought I wasn't.

            I couldn't take this. I had to get out of there before Medda found me again. We'd talk this through at my lesson tomorrow, straighten things out. And everything would go back to normal. Despite cries of protest from stagehands, I raced out the back door and sprinted all the way back to the lodging house, stopping one time to throw up in an alley. It had just been too much, and my mind couldn't handle this, let alone my body.

            I made it back long before curfew, but I mumbled something to Kloppman about not feeling well and I went straight to sleep. Little did I know the chain reaction my candid performance had set off.

AN: Ah hah, the suspense! I have lots of things in store for Skittery, good and bad. So keep reading and reviewing! 


	2. Revelations and Choices

AN: Hey everyone! Thanks for the reviews. Without further ado, here's the second chapter!

            "It's time to get up, boys! Skittery! Ya lazy bum! Get outta that bed!"

            I groaned and half rolled over, trying to ignore Kloppman's shouts. My body didn't feel like getting up…in fact, my body didn't feel like doing much of anything. But I had to sell papes, or I wouldn't be able to afford tonight's rent.

            I jumped down from the bunk only to discover that my entire body was trembling and my knees were weak. I felt myself sway and start to fall, but I quickly caught myself on the bedpost. I noticed the concerned look on Mush's face right away.

            "You okay, Skitts?"

            I opened my mouth to speak as I let go of the bed and took two steps toward the washroom, but I couldn't seem to form words. The room was spinning, out of control, and I barely felt it as Kid Blink caught me in mid-fall.

            "Somebody help me get him on a bed!" I heard him say, and through the haze that seemed to cover the whole room I saw Mush grab one leg and Jack grab the other, lifting me ever so slowly onto Race's bunk.

            "I'm fine, guys…" I managed to mutter, much to their amusement. I then realized that the room had become fiery hot in a matter of seconds.

            Shit. I was sick.

            I slipped back into unconsciousness, and when I woke up, all the newsies were gone except for Mush. He was sitting by my bed, reading the morning paper. He noticed that I was awake, and helped me sit up before handing me a glass of water.

            "Welcome back to da land of da livin'." He joked as I sipped at the cool liquid. 

            "I don't feel like I'm livin'…"

            "Obviously."

            He took the water from me and set it aside as I dropped back to the pillow. Then he picked the newspaper back up and began giving me a summary of today's articles.

            "And there's this big to-do over at Irving Hall. Somethin' about some kid who played piano and ran off right aftah he preformed. They even got da bulls on da lookout for him."

            "What?!"

            I snatched the paper out of his hands and read the article as fast as I could with my limited reading skills. I couldn't understand the whole thing, but I got the basic jist of it.

            They called me 'one of a kind'. Stunning. Spectacular. A prodigy of the arts. And they were still looking for me.

            "What's wrong, Skitts? It's just a dumb article."

            I looked at my pocket watch. It was 11:30. I could still make it to my lesson on time if I left now. I pushed myself up and then shakily stood, much to Mush's dismay.

            "Lay back down! You're gonna pass out again!"

            "Mush, I have to go." I said, and then I fished my last quarter out of my pocket and shoved it into his hand. "Dat's for da sellin' you missed this morning."

            He stood up and grabbed onto my sleeve. "I can't accept this…and you can't just get up and leave!"

            I wrenched my sleeve away from his grip, and then I smiled. "Watch me."

            I didn't even care that I was wearing the same clothes that I had been in yesterday. I walked out the door, trying to keep my footsteps steady and ignore the feeling of nausea rising in me. I had to talk to Medda; this was getting out of hand.

            It took longer than usual to get there, but I felt like I was gaining strength and I walked in at noon on the dot. I was shocked to find at least seven or eight reporters crowded around Medda, who was obviously soaking up the attention.

            "And there's the man of the hour!" she exclaimed when she saw me, and the reporters were on me in an instant. A million questions were being thrown at me at once, and I looked at Medda helplessly. She pushed through them, and then yelled, "Alright, that's enough! I have a lesson to give! Toby, escort these people out."

            It took a few minutes to get them to leave, and once they were gone I sighed with relief, sinking into the nearest chair. Medda kneeled in front of me, and then reached up and put the back of her hand to my forehead.

            "You're burning up, Skittery. Are you okay?"

            "Yeah…I'm fine."

            "You saw the article, didn't you?"

            I nodded, and she reached into her purse and pulled out a small brown bag. "I meant to give this to you last night, but you left before I had the chance."

            I hesitated before taking it, considering I had no idea what was in it. It was heavier than it looked, and when I looked inside, I could understand why.

            It was filled with money. Bills, quarters, dimes, nickels, pennies…there had to be at least fifty dollars in that little bag. 

            "Medda…this is…"

            She didn't give me a chance to finish, and I wasn't sure I could've anyway. "That's the donations that the audience put in after the show last night for you. That's your pay. That's more than I make in a week's worth of shows, and you made it in one hour."

            I shook my head fiercly. "I can't take this…"

            "Why not?"

            "I just…oh, God…" I muttered, shoving the bag back into Medda's hands and running for the bathroom. The sick feeling had just overtaken me again- I'd never had that much money handed to me in my life, especially not with the giver saying it was all mine. This was crazy.

            "You alright, kid?" Medda asked from the doorway as I leaned over the toilet. She helped me get up and walk back to the chair, and I sat down with my head in my hands. "When you're ready, there's someone here to meet you."

            I looked up slowly, trying to keep from pitching over and blacking out again. "Who?"

            "I'll let him speak for himself." She said, moving aside so I could see a young businessman in a black suit and tie. He offered his hand for a handshake, but I ignored it, and he just let it fall, not perturbed by my lack of effort.

            "My name is Renard. Renard Danken. I'm with the Board of Education here in New York. I loved your performance last night. You have a lot of talent in those hands, young man."

            "Get to da point, mister."

            "Alright. I talked to some of my fellow board members, and we all agree that you're something special. We don't want a young person like you to be wasted selling newspapers or working in a factory. So if you're willing, there's a family that was present last night that wants to adopt you, and the board wants to get you started in free schooling."

            I couldn't speak. My heart had dropped into my feet, and my mouth had to be hanging somewhere near the floor.

            "I…you're jokin', right? Dis is all a big joke…right, Medda?"

            "No, Skitts. It's not a joke." She said, stroking my hair almost like my mother would've.

            The man saw that I wasn't going to respond, so he decided to push the issue. "Just think, Michael. There's a family out there who wants to take you in. A warm bed…three meals a day…going to school…and we figured that you wouldn't want to leave your friends, so there's an added option."

            "Yeah, what's that?"

            "The couple has agreed that two is better than one, so you are welcome to pick one of your friends and bring them with you. Like having a brother. And he'd get the same schooling you would, the same opportunities, all for free. On top of that, if you take this offer, we'll provide funding for the lodging house. Your friends back there won't go hungry for a long time."

            That changed things. At first it would've seemed cheap, leaving the guys at the drop of a hat. But now I had the chance to give one of them what they'd always wanted. I had the opportunity to save them from a life on the streets. And I a chance to help the lodging house, give all of them a better life.

            A chance for them was a chance I couldn't pass up.

            Medda must've thought that I was having trouble with the decision, even though I knew that there was only one choice I could make here. "It's the chance of a lifetime, Skitts."

            I took a deep breath, thinking about how I was going to break this to the other guys…and just who I would pick to take with me. "Okay…I'll do it."

AN: I can't decide, people! I need your input! Which newsie should he take? Read, review, and help me out here!


	3. Decisions

AN: Well, this is going to be a rough chapter for me. I'm kinda scared. I've been putting off writing it cause I'm afraid I'll butcher it. I'm praying right now, can ya tell?

Read and review…or throw it out…cause I'm really nervous about this one…

            All the newsies were waiting on me to speak. Word had already gotten around that I was the boy that the newspaper article referred to, and it was hard enough trying to answer their questions about _that_. Now I had to tell them that this would be my last night in the lodging house.

            I didn't want to go. If he hadn't mentioned bringing one other person and funding the lodging house, then I never would've said yes. This was crazy. I sat down on my bunk, everyone waiting for me to speak.

            "I…won't be stayin' at da lodgin' house after tonight."

            It was like I had said that Teddy Roosevelt had turned black overnight. There was worry, curiosity, concern, but mostly anger.

            "Why? What's goin' on, Skitts?" Jack asked. I could already feel his curiosity giving way to suspicion.

            "There's a couple up at Midtown dat wants ta adopt me. And they said dat if I come live with them, they'll fund the lodgin' house. You guys won't be goin' hungry anymore."

            "But that means you'd have ta give up sellin'." Mush said, stating the obvious. I felt the urge to just cry, but I never have cried where they can see me. I didn't want their pity.

            "Yeah, I know. They're gonna send me ta school instead."

            I guess it was obvious that I didn't want to go, because Jack laid a hand on my shoulder and said, "You don't have ta do this. We've managed fine by ourselves all along, without some hoity-toity person's funds behind us."

            Suddenly, Boot's fury got the better of him. "He probably wants ta go. He just wants ta wear a suit and tie and leave us heah! You're no bettah den a scab!" he yelled, then he climbed out the window, making for the roof. I dropped my head into my hands, already feeling a huge headache coming on.

            "Don't listen ta him, Skitts. He's gonna miss ya as much as we will." Kid said, offering comfort but not helping much. Boots was right. I was no better than we'd considered Jack to be when he walked out on us.

            "There's something else." I managed to choke out.

            "What?"

            "They want me…ta bring one of you guys."

            Complete silence. I hadn't wanted to lay this on them, but I had no other choice. It's not like my decision would be a secret forever, and telling them sooner was better than later.

            I could feel the tension in the room grow by tenfold, and Jack let his hand drop off my shoulder. I couldn't take this. I jumped up and ran out the door, taking the steps three at a time and sitting down on the entrance steps to the lodging house. 

            I shivered against the cool air and realized that I was going to make myself even more sick, sitting out here like this. But at the moment, I didn't care. I couldn't face my friends like this, not when the urge to break down was so overpowering.

            It was a few minutes before I heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and Jack sat down beside me. For a brief moment, I wondered why they had sent him instead of someone like Mush. Jack wasn't exactly well known for his abilities in comforting depressed newsies.

            "Ya know, when I was sitting there with Roosevelt, I was havin' the same trouble deciding whether or not to go to Santa Fe."

            "But you stayed."

            "I had a reason to." He draped his arm around my shoulders, and then grabbed one of my hands with his. "From what I hear, you've got a whole lot of talent in dese hands of yours. Medda thinks so, the press thinks so…heck, da whole city thinks so. And they don't want that to go to waste. And you know what?"

            "What?"

            "We think so too. We talked it through up dere, and we's all agreed. It'd be best for you if you go. Dey say opportunity only knocks once in a guy's life. I passed mine up, and it worked out. I don't think it would be da same for you." 

            He removed his arm, and I studied my hands carefully, suddenly wishing I didn't _have that talent that everyone loved so much. "I just wish none of dis evah happened. I nevah woulda stepped onto dat stage, not for a million bucks."_

            "You can't change da past, Skitts."

            "I know." I sighed heavily, ending up going into a coughing fit.

            "Come on, let's get you inside. You're already sick." Jack said, tugging on my sleeve and standing up.

            "I think I'm gonna stay out here a while, Jack. I still gotta decide who I'm gonna ask ta come with me."

            And soon, once again, I was all alone on the steps, lost in my thoughts.

AN: Sorry I didn't get any further with this one. Next chapter, we find out who he's taking!


	4. Introductions

AN: Another rough chapter ahead (at least for me). The newsie I picked to accompany Skittery is the one that I mainly thought could further the storyline and work best with the twists ahead, so don't kill me if you don't agree. I feel bad about my choice too- I almost felt like I _was Skittery for a while there, trying to pick just one newsie out of about 19. I hope you guys don't maul me, cause I'm splitting up a well known pair of friends…I'll fix it, I promise!_

            That morning was the roughest morning of my life. Kloppman tried to keep a bit of 'the norm' around by waking us up with the usual drama, but no one's heart was into it. I was still holding back tears as I shoved all my belongings into the duffel bag that I had carried them in the lodging house with so many years ago.

            The worst part of it had to be seeing Kid Blink trying to say goodbye to Mush. It had been hard enough asking Mush if he would come, even harder when I saw the look on Blink's face when Mush told everyone that he was going with me. Their minute long hug and the tears that were shed were ripping my heart into God knows how many pieces.

            But Mush, as usual, put on a smile as he threw his back over his shoulder. I had never been hugged so many times in my life, and it was wrenching to have all those hugs occur in the same 15 minute time span. And long before I felt it was time, the 'clopping' of horses hooves was heard outside on the cobblestone street, and I looked out the window to see a man in a suit standing beside a shiny, oversized carriage.

            "Come on, Skitts. Let's go." Mush said, the expression on his face and the tone of his voice not matching the indication of the words.

            We were leaving. Maybe never coming back.

            Kloppman stopped his 'wake up call' just long enough to hug both of us tightly. I wasn't so sure I was going to miss being screamed at every morning, though. Maybe I was wrong.

            Kid Blink and Jack 'accompanied' us out to the carriage, and Mush pulled Kid into one last hug and a spit shake for good luck before he climbed in. I followed, spit shaking with both Jack and Blink. I saw the man nod and smile at Jack before stepping into the carriage and shutting the door.

            The man offered us a warm handshake as the carriage pulled away. "I'm Robert. I'll be your personal butler. We should be arriving at the house in about thirty minutes, so while we wait, did you have any questions for me?"

            I shot a glance at Mush, and he shrugged, still shocked at hearing that we would have a 'personal butler'. I shook my head, and Robert nodded, leaning back in his seat to look out the small window. 

            "You'll love the house, boys." He said after a few minutes of silence. "It's a three story mansion with marble columns, seven bedrooms each with a personal bath, a ballroom, a dining room, two kitchens, an art gallery, an outdoor and indoor pool, two sun rooms, and three sitting rooms. All the 'creature comforts' of home. In fact, we're holding a party for your arrival tomorrow night in the ballroom, so you two should be awfully busy in the next few days!"

            A party? For us? I noticed the same confused look on Mush's face, and I couldn't help but ask. "Why are dey havin' a party?"

            Robert laughed, loosening his tie. "The Jedreck's are so glad to have you two coming to live with us. They want you to meet all of their friends, and a party is the best way to do so. You'll have the time of your lives…dancing, champagne, not to mention the ladies. After we clean you up a bit, you'll be a hit with the ladies!" He obviously didn't notice Mush and I both snicker at that remark. Yeah right. Us, a hit with rich people? 

            He continued on. "So, which one of you is the piano player I've heard so much about?"

            Mush pointed to me, and Robert's grin spread from ear to ear. "I can't wait to hear you play. Miss Anne hasn't stopped talking about the street boy that plays like an angel. We've taken all the furniture out of the third sun room, and Master Geoff just had a brand new grand piano delivered and put in this morning." 

             A brand new grand piano? Just for me? That had to be hundreds of dollars, maybe thousands! These people were nuts!

            The rest of the ride was silent, even when we pulled through the huge iron gates and up a circular driveway that had to be at least a mile long. I was speechless as we pulled up to the castle- I say castle, because that's how big it was. It could've been a castle.

            There was a small lake out in front with a huge, water-spraying fountain in the middle in the shape of leaping dolphins. The house was a startling white color, with marble columns running all the way from the fancy stone carved porch to the gargoyle decorated roof. It looked like it jumped straight off the pages of a book.

            The driver opened the door for us, and as I stepped out I caught sight of three people waiting on the porch for us. The first was a middle aged man with slicked-back brown hair and a small mustache. To me, he looked stiff and unforgiving, holding his walking stick in front of him with both hands draped over the top but not leaning on it. The next was a woman wearing a large flowered hat and a long, pale blue dress, looking quite young until you got closer and noticed the wrinkles on her face. Her hair, though cut short, was a bright red color.

            The third was a younger woman, looking to be about in her twenties. She wore a frilly yellow dress and carried a matching umbrella, her smile beaming and her hair the same color red as the other woman. The scarlet ringlets were put up in a fancy hair style, but a few fell around her face, complimenting her ivory skin. 

"Hello, boys. We've been expecting you. Come on inside, we'll do our introductions out of the sun." the man said, firmly gripping Mush's shoulder as he led us in. 

            We were just as awed by the entry room as we had been by the outside of the house. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and a double staircase with golden banisters led up to a higher level, graced by yet another dolphin statue. _These people must really like dolphins, I thought as they led us up the stairs and through another door into a smaller room with a few couches and chairs. Mush and I sat down on one of the smaller couches, both of us taking off our hats at the exact same time. The man and two women sat down on another couch across from us, and Robert sat down in a chair beside them._

            "I believe the man said your name was Michael, right? Michael O'Konnor." The woman said to me, and I nodded.

            "All my friends call me Skittery." I said, judging their reactions by the surprised looks on their faces. It turns out that I was pleasantly surprised.

            "If that's what you want to be called by us, then that's fine. Just allow us to call you Michael around guests." The man said with a good hearted smile.

            "Fair enough."

            The woman turned to Mush. "And what might your name be?"

            "Mush Meyers, ma'am."

            "Is that a nickname as well?"

            "I nevah knew my real name, so not really."

            The man smiled and gestured to himself. "I'm Geoffrey Jedreck, but you boys can call me Geoff. This is my wife, Anne, and that beautiful young lady is my daughter, Anita. She's visiting for the week with her husband and her daughter, Theodore and Tiffany, who should be joining us later tonight. And you've already met Robert."

            Anne took over from there. "You have a personal maid as well, who will be taking care of all your cooking. Her name is Kristine. She's out shopping for us right now, and should be back shortly. In the meantime…Robert, why don't you show the boys to their rooms?"

            "Of course, ma'am." Robert said, and then he waved for us to follow him. We stood up and he took us out another door, where we were hit with the strong smell of chemicals. 

            "This is the indoor pool." He said, waving to a young woman who seemed to be adding more chemicals to the pool. She jumped up, practically falling over as she ran to us.

            "Are these the new ones? Oh, they're so adorable!" she squeeled, clasping her hands below her chin. 

            "Skittery, Mush…this is Consuela. She takes care of the pools, fountains, and gardens on the grounds." Robert said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

            "Pleased to meet you, ma'am." Mush said, always trying to be a gentleman. I simply nodded as Robert jerked his head to tell us to move on. Consuela looked disappointed, but only for a moment.

            "I'll bring up roses from the garden for your bedside tables!" she yelled as we moved on into the next room. I heard Robert groan, obviously not really liking Consuela that much.

            "Just ignore her," he advised, "She's always like that. Anyway, this is the piano room. It's connected to your room, Skittery, so you can practice whenever you like."

            It was the most gorgeous piano I've ever seen. I was almost afraid to touch it, even though they'd put it there for me. It was made of a deep, dark wood grain, polished until every inch of it shined like the surface of the ocean, and the lid was propped up so the strings on the inside could be seen from where I was standing. The keys looked like they'd never been touched, the bright white a stark contrast to the midnight black flat and sharp keys. The piano bench was made of the same wood, but had a soft, leather cushion on it.

            "Go ahead. Try it out." Robert insisted, giving me a little push toward it. I sat down carefully, and then I decided on a song and started playing.

            It was perfectly in tune, every note harmonizing in perfect pitch with the other notes. It took a soft touch, the dynamics changing every time my fingers would hit the keys just a little harder or a little softer. That would take some getting used to. I'd never played on a piano quite like this one, and I doubted I would ever find one quite like it again. And what was even more uplifting was that I could play anytime I wanted to just by walking into the next room.

            By the time I finished the song I couldn't help but smile. Maybe this would turn out better than I had previously thought. 

            "Bravo! Marvelous!" Robert exclaimed, his clapping bringing me back into the 'real world'. 

            "Why didn't you evah tell us that you could do that? That's amazing!" Mush said, patting me on the back as I backed away from the piano.

            "I just…nevah thought it was that great." I said, following Robert into the next room. He was still gushing about the 'wondrous music' and what guests would think of their 'musical angel'.

            "This is your bedroom, Skittery." He said, flipping on the lights. It was huge! The bed was made of oak and had blue silk sheets on it, along with a feather filled blue comforter. I had a walk-in closet and two dressers, even though I'd probably never have enough clothes to fill all that space.

            Mush's room was much the same as mine, with a burgundy theme instead of a blue theme, and our rooms were connected by a large oak door with carvings of dolphins covering it. He dropped his bag on the bed, and though I suddenly felt guilty by leaving everyone else behind, I felt that the look of wonder in Mush's eyes was worth it for that instant. He had never had quite the personality of a hardened street kid (even though he was surprisingly good at soaking people when the situation called for it), and now he didn't have to.

            Robert explained that a seamstress would be upstairs to get our 'measurements' in about a half hour, and that we could unpack until then. He also said that dinner was at 6, and that he'd be upstairs to 'fetch' us at about 5:45.

AN: I feel so bad! I'm an awful person! Poor Blink…* smacks herself*…I'll fix it. I have to. I;m so upset…

Anyway. * clears throat loudly * I have a tidbit for all my readers! During Carryin' Da Banner, when they're running down the stairs and Kloppman is _trying_ to do a head count, did anyone else notice that the sign above the stairs says 'Speak the Truth'? I find that funny, but that could be just my whacked up sense of humor……

Read and review! I love you guys!

Oh, and by the way…funny scene ahead with the seamstress getting their measurements. Time for some humor to break up the drama! * snickers evilly*


	5. Uninvited Guests

AN: Time for a chapter with some humor mixed in. It's gonna start off serious, but just wait until the seamstress comes in, and the boys get a surprise guest…this is gonna be fun!

Read and review!

            "So…what do ya think?"

            Mush didn't answer for a moment- he was busy running his hand down the carved bedpost. His eyes had to be the size of dinner plates. "I..I just…um…wow…" he stuttered, sitting down on the edge of the bed. I laughed, and he looked hurt. "What?" he snapped.

            "Oh, nothing."

            I sat down beside him. Another awkward silence.

            "You already miss him, don't you?" I asked.

            "Well, I…yeah. I do."

            "I'm sorry."

            "It ain't your fault."

            "Yes it is. I dragged you here."

            "Hey, if I didn't wanna come, I wouldn't have come. It's just…"

            "You miss him."

            "Yeah."

            He stood up and opened his bag, pulling out his clothes and stuffing them into the top drawer of the dresser. I sighed deeply. "Do you think it was worth it?"

            He laughed, more of a thoughtful sound than an 'I thought that was funny' sound. "It was worth it."

            "Ya mean that?" 

            "Yep. I don't say anything I don't mean."

            "Unless you's-" I stopped dead. I couldn't say it. He put down the shirt he had been messily folding.

            "Hawkin' da headlines." He finished gently, a smile on his face.

            "Yeah." I managed to choke out.

            He was about to speak again when a knock on the door made us both jump about a foot in the air. "Boys? The seamstress is here." Robert said from the other side, and I jumped up and opened the door. A very tall woman that was obviously overweight waddled in, a basket tucked under one arm. 

            Robert didn't come in- he only smiled and said, "Now you two behave and do what she tells you to, okay?"

            The lady slammed the door in his face, and I shot a helpless look at Mush as she looked at me from head to toe.

            "Much too skinny. What have you been eating, boy? Bread and water?"

            "Well, basically."

            She shook her head, then grabbed a chair and dragged it to the center of the room. "Stand on this. You're tall, but not that tall."

            I hesitated, and she obviously didn't take well to that, because she exploded at me. "What are you waiting on, the Indians to come back and claim New York? I said get up there! I have a job to do, and one day to do it!"

            I didn't hesitate this time. I stepped up onto the chair, and she pulled out a measuring tape, still mumbling about how kids were lazy and never got anything right until you said it five times. 

            "Where's your waist?" She suddenly asked.

            "What?" 

            "Your waist, child! You know, where you button your pants? Oh, nevermind…"

            She lifted up my shirt and grabbed the waist band of my pants, keeping me from jerking away as she hooked the top of the measuring tape on my pants and unrolled it all the way down to my ankles. "These pants are much too short for you. I'll see that you get new ones…ones that don't have dirt all over them." She said as she rolled it back up. "Now take off your shoes and socks and get down off of there. Come on, hurry!"

            I did as I was told as fast as humanly possible, fuming at Robert silently for leaving us alone with this mentally disturbed woman.

            The seamstress pulled out a metal plate with a ruler taped to it, then grabbed my foot and set it down on the plate, which was freezing cold. "Hold still! It's not going to bite you." She demanded, and I noticed that Mush was trying his hardest to keep from laughing hysterically and almost failing. _You'll get your turn, I thought to myself as she did the same to my other foot._

            She stood up and unrolled the measuring tape, wrapping it around my waist and muttering to herself about how skinny I was. She proceeded to measure my arms and my chest and even my neck and my wrists- I didn't even want to know what she needed to know _that_ for.

            "Alright, your turn. Get up on that chair." She said to Mush, and he knew better than to take his time. "You're much too skinny as well! I hope they start feeding you two!" she said, poking him in the stomach and practically making him topple over backwards.

            She proceeded to put him through the same things that she had put me through, and when she was done she left without even saying goodbye, slamming the door and still muttering about speaking personally with the cook before she left. Mush and I didn't even get a chance to sigh in relief before another knock at the door broke the moment of silence. Mush opened the door, and a short, balding man walked in, a huge and kind of scary smile on his face and a brown bag hanging from his shoulder.

            "Okay! Let's see what I have to work with!" he exclaimed, and then he pushed Mush back so he was sitting on the chair that the seamstress had us standing on. He proceeded to run one of his hands through Mush's hair, scaring him to death.

            "What are you doing?!" Mush yelled, slapping the man's hand back.

            "Oh, Robert must have forgotten to tell you that I was coming." He stepped back and bowed deeply. "I am Enrico. I am the family's hair stylist. Master Geoff asked me to come up and do what I can with you."

            "A…hair stylist?" I asked in disbelief, raising an eyebrow.

            "Yes! The best in Manhattan!" He turned his attention back to Mush's hair. "You really have beautiful hair, wonderful natural curl…it just needs a good scrubbing." He said, inspecting Mush's hair. He then pulled Mush out of the seat and motioned for me to sit down. I did so, a bit nervous about this guy pulling my hair.

            He ran a hand through my hair, and then looked at his hand as if it were covered in slime. "What have you been using to wash your hair?"

            "Um…water…"

            "Just water?"

            "What else is there? Mud?"

            He scowled a moment, then grabbed me by the arm and grabbed Mush by the sleeve. "Come on, you two. To the sink. You both need a good scrubbing. I'm going to teach you both how to wash your hair, because you obviously don't know how!"

            He dragged us into the bathroom and proceeded to scrub our hair with a variety of strange smelling oils, and by the time he was done both of us looked like drowned rats and I had a pounding headache from having my hair pulled at so much, not to mention the strong scent of 'shampoo' killing my sense of smell by the second.

            "When your hair dries, you'll both look like a million dollars." He proclaimed as he set out a myriad of bottles on the nightstand. "I want you both using these every other night in your hair. No excuses. Am I understood?"

            "Yes, sir." We both answered simultaneously.

            "Good. I'll be back to check on you and refill those bottles next week. You boys have a nice day." He walked out, and both Mush and I collapsed backward onto the bed.

            "What time is it?"

            "I don't know. Feels like we were in there for hours."

            Mush lifted his head just long enough to look at the clock, and then he let it fall back onto the bed. "It's almost three. We were in there for an hour and a half."

            "Oh my God…"

            "Yeah. Me too."

            I don't know how long we laid there just catching our breath after all that. I just know that my headache slowly faded, and I was looking forward to dinner. All this excitement left me famished, even more than selling papers all day would've.

AN: Haha…that was fun. I liked writing that chapter. Poor Mush and Skittery…I had a similar experience at a hairdresser. She hated my hair for no obvious reason and decided to 'teach me' how to wash it. Ugh. I ended up with a headache too. ^__^ Anyways…you've read, now review! 


	6. Tremors

AN: Alright, you guys have had your laughs, time to try and get serious again. I don't know, I may fail at that myself! Also, this chapter will give the first hints of bad things to come…Read and review!

            I don't know how we managed it, but while we were lying there, we both fell asleep and were dead to the world until Robert knocked on the door, telling us that it was time for dinner. We both burst out laughing, and Robert opened the door, looking awfully confused.

            "What's so funny?" he asked, crossing his arms and trying to look stern, but failing miserably.

            "Nothin'." Mush said, jumping to his feet and then helping me up. 

            "Well, if you two are finished with your little private joke, then we must be going. Anita's husband and daughter want to meet you before we dine."

            "Dine?"

            "Eat, Skittery." Mush whispered as we followed him out.

            "Oh, right. I knew that." 

            I couldn't believe the amount of luxury in this place. Even the hallways had painting hanging all over the walls and fancy lighting, not to mention wood edging where the wall met the ceiling.

            "There they are! Go say hi, Tiffany!"

            A purple blur suddenly attacked my legs, a blur that immediately squealed and giggled as I had to grab onto the wall to avoid falling over. 

            "Hi there!" Tiffany said, looking up at me with crystal blue eyes and fine blond curls raised up into pigtails.

            "Um…hi…"

            A broad chested man walked up to me, laying a hand on the girl's head as he laughed with a booming voice. "Alright, Tiffany, let go before you knock him over." He said, and then he bent down and picked her up. "I'm Theodore, Anita's husband. She's already told me about you two."

            "Pleased ta meet ya."

            "And I'm Tiffany…Tiffany Gwenevere Andrews!" the little girl said proudly from her father's arms. "Mommy said your name was Skittery. That's a funny name."

            "Tiffany! That wasn't nice." Robert scolded.

            "Well, it is!"

            I just laughed. "It's okay. I get that all the time."

            "Theodore, come here!" Anita called from across the room, where she was conversing with Geoff and Anne. He smiled at us then turned and walked to them.

            A worn-looking woman in a simple brown dress approached us, straightening her dress as she did so. Her blond hair was up in a messy bun, and when I saw her eyes…I couldn't believe it.

            "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" I whispered to Mush before she got within earshot.

            "Yeah…she looks just like him!"

            "Hi, I'm Kristine." She said, offering her hand in a handshake. We both shook her hand, but both of us were too stunned to speak. She just laughed at this. "Well, you're awfully quiet! I was afraid it would cause a ruckus, having two teenage boys in the house…you know what they say about raging hormones…but I think we'll get along. I've got to go, but we'll talk later!"

            Even her smile reminded me of him. That same cocky smile that seems to scream, 'Everyone loves me and you should too!' I turned to Mush, drawing him aside before anyone could interrupt us.

            "Did Blink evah tell you about his family?"

            "He just said he was an orphan. Said his mom left him with his dad, and eventually his dad got sick of him. Dat's all I know."

            "Well, I think we just found his mother."

            Mush nodded. The resemblance was uncanny, no doubt about it. Maybe she would be willing to talk about it later.

            "Skittery! Mush! Time for dinner! Come on!" Anne called out, and we took our places at the dinner table, making sure to stay next to each other. I guess you could call it 'newsies instinct'- we had to stick together.

            I couldn't believe the plate that the butler set in front of me- all this food for one person?

            Mush and I shot a look at each other that said basically the same thing- it must be some life, eating this much three times a day.

            "So, why don't you two tell us about yourselves?" Geoff said, and Mush shrugged. 

            "Ain't much ta tell. We's jest newsies."

            Theodore practically choked on his roast beef. "Geoff, please tell me you're going to hire them a diction tutor."

            "A what?" Mush asked me, and I just shrugged.

            "Leave them alone for now. We'll have them working on it soon enough." Geoff insisted, and then he turned his attention back to us. "Well, what about your families? Where are they now?"

            This time it was my turn to shrug. "Probably dead. I don't really care."

            "Same here." Mush said.

            The silence stretched all the way around the table for at least a full ten seconds. Obviously, we'd said something wrong.

            "Then tell us about your friends. The other boys at the lodging house." Anne said.

            I looked at Mush, basically telling him to go for it. He cleared his throat before beginning to talk. "Well, there's Jack Kelly. He's like da leader, at least during da strike. Kid Blink was my best friend, and probably da most egotistical guy you'd evah meet. Man, he had a temper…Anyways, the youngest ones were Boots and Snipeshooter, and Snoddy and Swifty keep dem under control. Let's see…Snitch is a pickpocket…then there's Pie Eater, Specs, and Dutchy, the smart ones. And Jake and Itey pretend they're smart, but they really ain't…"

            He stopped when he realized that everyone was looking at him with blank stares. Everyone except for me, that is. 

            "Um…I's sorry…did I say somethin' wrong?" Mush asked, a blush creeping across his face.

            Anita snapped out of it before anyone else. "Oh, no, it's not that…it's just…" she obviously couldn't stand not asking. "Do they really have names like Pie Eater and Snoddy?"

            "Yeah. No one goes by their real name, 'cept for David and Les. But that's cause dey go home to their family every night. When ya live in da lodgin' house, ya earn a nickname."

            For about a minute, the only sound was that of silverware on glass plates. It was unnerving, getting the feeling that nobody understood you and they obviously weren't even going to try.

            "So…is it hard, selling papers?" Anne asked, breaking the silence like taking a hammer to a mirror.

            "Yeah, it's pretty rough. I mean, ya end up workin' about 18 hours outta every day." I said, wondering if anyone even knew the name of the main course. I was almost afraid to eat it. It looked kinda funny.

            "Say 'working' again!" Tiffany demanded, and I did, curious as to what was so funny. Then I realized- with my accent, it ended up coming out as 'woiken' instead. She squealed with delight, and then tried to mimic my pronunciation, ending up sounding like an immigrant trying to pick up on the lingo.

            "That's quite enough, Tiffany. Don't make fun of our guests." Anita said.

            Mush, on the other hand, was quite amused by the girl's antics. "Aw, it's okay. She's just havin' fun." 

            Geoff stood up, laying his napkin down on the table. "Why don't you two come with me and we'll discuss your schedule for tomorrow?"

            He led us to yet another sitting room, this one seeming much less cheerful, with mostly shades of brown dominating the color scheme. He had us sit down, but he didn't- instead, he paced the floor in front of us. I felt like a child who'd gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

            "Your tutor is coming in tomorrow morning to give you a crash course in manners and etiquette before the party tomorrow night. I expect that she will have your full attention. After classes, Skittery will be moving on to his piano lesson while Mush goes out to the stables to meet Darien and get his daily chores. Any objections?"

            Mush should've objected; he knew that as well as I did. There was a reason he never went with Race to the tracks- he was scared to death of horses. But being the good natured guy he is, he didn't complain, and Geoff continued.

            "Good. I can see you're going to be agreeable, so life should move pretty smoothly. However," he slammed one end of his walking stick on the floor, "should either of you begin to cause any problems, I will have you bruised up so fast you won't know what hit you. Do you understand?"

            I saw Mush's panicked look, and I imagine that I was looking quite the same. We go from a poor abusive family, to being an orphan, to only go into a rich abusive family? I felt my heart begin to race. This couldn't be happening.

            "I asked if you understood. _When I ask you a question, I want an answer._"

            I remained silent, and Mush did as well. This was insane. He couldn't treat us like this!

            "I'll take that as a yes, just this once. I'll just assume you're adjusting. Now both of you are to be in your rooms in five minutes. Kristine will be upstairs to lock things up shortly."

            "Lock things up?" I asked.

            "Yes. I wouldn't want either of you to be sleepwalking anywhere, would I? Your rooms are going to be locked every night, and your windows. I'm sure it won't take you long to get used to that."

            I was about to respond, but Mush grabbed my shoulder and jerked his head towards the door. I was fuming, but I stood up and began walking away.

            "Good night, Mush. Good night, Skittery. I'll see you in the morning."

            Neither of us answered. When we got upstairs, we had a whole lot of talking to do.

AN: Uh-oh…are you seeing what I'm seeing? * cue creepy music * Hehe, I'm evil. Oh, well. Next chapter they have to decide what to do, and we meet Kristine…and find out if she really is who they think she is…


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